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Rhode, Mihna; Ravenclaw Fifth Year
Topic Started: Jul 25 2006, 11:57 AM (328 Views)
Mihna Rhode
Member Avatar
! it will all be o v e r
Ravenclaw Student
CHARACTER DOCUMENTATION
Character Name: Mihna (My-nuh) Rhode
Character Nickname: Minnesota (was given to her by an American friend when they pronounced her name “Mih-nuh”)
Character Age: 15
Character Year: Fifth
House/Alumni: Ravenclaw

Physical Appearance:
“I’ve always been a small girl. As a baby I weighed only five pounds even though I was born right on time. The Healers assured my parents that I was perfectly healthy but said that I would probably never grow to be particularly tall, at least compared to everyone else in my family. And they were right. My dad stands at 6’ straight, my brother towers over him at 6’3” and even my mother is a good 5’8”. I, on the other hand, have only reached the modest height of 5’3”. Yeah, that’s right, just a little more than five feet. I don’t really claim to be short ‘cause I have seen shorter people, but it sure does feel weird to be so small when living among giants. People really get a good laugh when they put my brother and I next to each other since he’s a whole foot taller. Yeah, laugh, bitches. Whatever, there still may be some hope for me since I’m only fifteen even if the Healers say there isn’t. I have a few more years of growth left. If I live that long. What, am I diseased? Kind of. I have a form of Rickets, which means I have weak bones, but that has nothing to do with my lifespan. No, it just means that because my bones can’t retain enough calcium to be healthy, they will always be short, thin and frail. At one point it was thought I might even turn out deformed since that is common in those with Ricekts. But, I didn’t. Yeah, when my parents heard about the bone disease and they were determined to make sure I never hurt myself. Loving, I guess, but a pain in the ass. So, I’ve only broken one bone thanks to being caged inside the house for the past fourteen years.

“My height is balanced out by my weight. Because I’m so thin, I don’t come across as short as I would have had I more pudge on me. Some idiots think I’m too thin, that I’m unhealthy because I’m so God damned small. Well, they’re wrong. It’s just that my body structure itself is so small that I appear sickly thin. My shoulders aren’t wide, I have no hips to speak of and I can fit my hand around my wrists and ankles. Yeah, small bones indeed. I’d come across as a total stick if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m a girl who is going through puberty. My breasts, small as they may be, are basically the only curves my body has. It’s pathetic. Once upon a time I tried to get a little bit of muscle so that my arms weren’t just… there, but that ended in disaster. Remember that one bone I broke? Yeah, that’s because I ran too hard. How the hell does that happen? I was going for a run to, you know, keep the heart pumping nice and good but with my horrible balance, I ended up stepping on the one rock on the whole sideway and falling. I dislocated and fractured my shoulder because of that little tumble. Since then, my mother has kept an incredibly close eye on me. If I had wanted to play Quidditch at school, well, too bad. She wouldn’t let me. She says she could see me lying in the Hostpital Wing unable to move because all the bones in my body has been shattered and removed. That’s a pleasant thought. I doubt I would live through an experience like that. ...Perhaps I should take up Quidditch.

“I suppose I’m not helping my height at all with growing out my hair as much as I have. Right now it reaches down to my lower back when straightened – which is all the time. Guess what! My hair is as stick straight as I am! It has little life to speak of, which, according to some of my ever adoring friends, is because the hair isn’t attached to exactly the liveliest thing. Well, sorry to my hair for not exactly loving the life of solitude and living the involuntary childhood of imprisonment – which, yes, actually does have an affect on the hair. I was allowed outside, but only under strict supervision which pretty much ruined what fun I would have had. Therefore, my hair, or any of me, didn’t get any of those lovely vitamins that the sun supposedly gives you. I guess that’s also why I’m not exactly the tannest person in the world. Again, if you put me next to my brother, I look like the living dead and he would look black. But about my hair. I guess I do have to admit that it a pretty color, one that I’ve always particularly liked. It’s the typical Rhode auburn brown, but because I wasn’t exposed to the sun much, it’s more brown than auburn and the red highlights aren’t as evident. Still, in the right lighting they are there. It adds a bit of mystery to my color, I like to say. And I sure do like mystery. As for hair style, I really don’t have one. I haven’t cared much for those multiple layers and bangs and things. The whole ‘oh my god, I’ve got to hide like one eye behind bangs to be cool’ look was never one I really go into. I’ll stick with the natural straight, thanks.

“My face is my face. It’s the thing that covers my brain, in case you didn’t know. Okay, I’m really not found into going into details. I’ve never really been one to care a large deal about appearance and so I’m reluctant to talk about myself even more ‘cause then it may seem that I’m just a bit self-absorbed. Wait. Screw it. When have I cared about that either? I suppose I could just summarize everything with little comments friends, family and other losers have said about me. For one, I have a small oval face. Yes, small, you should be getting used to that word in reference to me by now. My eyes are little (yeah, get used to that, too) almonds, as my mother would always say. Of course, she loves almonds, so it just may be her way of complimenting me without the obviousness. But I guess she’s right. They’re a bit oblong and are a medium brown, which could fit the description of an almond. Hah, I guess some people weren’t lying when they said I was nutty; crazy. My nose is probably the only thing on my entire body that is not small. Not that it is large either, it’s decent, but it sure as hell ain’t a cute button nose. Whatever, it flows. My lips have been described as pouty before and one of Logan’s friends even went as far as to call them delectable – if I smiled more. Let’s just say that he had quite the set of pouty lips after Logan heard about that comment. But too bad for him, I don’t smile. Not much anyway. My brother and my closest friends can make me smile. Fear can make me smile. Adventure can make me smile. Books can make me smile. Jokes, love, my parents, losers: they can’t make me smile. Too bad.”

Personality and Traits: She's a suicidal beeetch. You can kind of get an idea for her personality from the appearance and history, since it's first person.

Background/Family History:
“Once upon a time, in a world of sex and alcohol, a young male and a young female connected in the way their bodies had been created to connect. Do you know want to know what came from that little get together? Well, not me. Logan was born nine months after that little event as a complete accident. Not that our parents didn’t love him; oh, our parents love Logan very much indeed. They just took his birth as a sign that perhaps they needed to sober out. Well, that didn’t really work. Three years later, Jackson and Georgia Rhode got just a little bit tipsy on their six year anniversary and conceived another child. Yeah, that one would be me. Born on May 2nd, 2003, I was an accident, too, though like Logan, I wasn’t loved any less. However, my birth truly did signify their need to cut back on the drinks, even if it wasn’t like they went boozing every Friday night. You see, I was born with Rickets, or a disease that affects the bones in a way that they can’t retain enough calcium to develop to their full potential. Rickets in adults is called “Osteomalacia” and can be brought about by alcoholism. It’s not a common disease, even to extreme alcoholics, which is why my dad and brother never developed it. However, I wasn’t as lucky. Fortunately for me, I started experience the symptoms in my early years instead of my teenage years. When I was a toddler and growing through my first growth spurt, I would often cry and scratch at my back. That was because my spine wasn’t growing as fast as my brain wanted it to which caused a hell of a lot of pain, even if I can’t really remember it now. My parents took me to the Healers and they told me I wasn’t getting enough calcium. So, I started drinking more milk and all that, but it soon proved that that wasn’t enough, either.

“When I was five, about a year after my spine finally stopped hurting, I started to experience more pain. It was in my pelvic area which raised quite a few questions. Obviously, being only five, I wasn’t old enough to have started my menstrual cycle. My parents, when they tried to talk to me, couldn’t figure out if it was the pelvic bone that was hurting, like my spine did, or if it was, say, my vagina or uterus that was hurting. For a brief few days while I cried, unaware of the questions and suspicion I was causing, my parents wondered about sexual assault. When I have been brought to the Healers to get answers about the pain in my back when I was younger, they had said that I shouldn’t experience anything similar. My parents trusted them and so didn’t take me back to them right away when this new symptom appeared. My mom was frantic: she hadn’t let me go out and play much since I was a toddler, afraid that I would break a bone. It was unlikely that I would have been touched by some stranger. For only ‘brief few moments’, my mom thought that my dad or my brother might have done something to me. What the hell? I don’t have much memory of being five years old, but I sure do not remember anything of that sort. Both my dad and my brother are macho men, not exactly the type you are overly affectionate with. I don’t think little girls that happen to share their blood would be their type. But as my mom assures me, she only pondered that for a few seconds. Yeah, right. And people call me crazy.

“In the end, my parents brought me back to the Healers. Lo and behold, it was determined that they were wrong when they said that drinking more milk and taking calcium supplements would solve all my problems. They diagnosed me with Rickets that day and told my parents that I would need to be extra careful about how active I was to make sure I didn’t break all my bones. That was the day it was determined that I would grow up into a little pipsqueak that couldn’t even look her mom’s in the eye without having to stare up at the ceiling. It also marked the beginning of my desire to get out and move, to test how breakable my bones really were. Such a morbid though, coming from such a young kid, but I had hated being watched so closely and as toddler and now my parents had their eyes glued to me even inside and around the house. What was I going to do, break my wrist by holding a plate full of food? Some could call me pampered – my parents did everything for me, including carrying that plate of food for me – but I only resented it. I think my brother resented it as well, at one point. I don’t know for sure because that’s not exactly something you talk about while it’s still going on. However, I felt there was a tension when my Hogwarts letter came and my parents were talking about whether or not I should go. Were they crazy? Of course I should go. It was Hogwarts. When they eventually gave up and allowed me to attend, I cried. It happened on the Hogwarts Train, actually, when I was in a compartment by myself. I was so happy to just be away from my parents and their over protectiveness that I cried. My brother was the one that found me and at that moment, any tension there was between us disappeared.

“Logan was there for me when mother sent a letter every week, to me and to the Headmistress, asking if I was okay, if I’d gotten into any accidents, etc. Eventually I started ignoring the letters, but then they came to Logan. My mom asked him how I was doing. He answered the first few truthfully: ‘She’s fine, she’s happy, leave her alone’, until he began to ignore them as well. It wasn’t until the Headmistress has nice ol’ Floo chat with mother did she stop bothering us. She assured her that she would not allow anything to bad to happen to any of her students, especially those with special needs. Oh, I how loathed that last little comment she made, but at least it made mother shut up and back off. I finally felt free of the life my mom had always planned for me and, to be honest, I went wild. I knew my mom wasn’t going to find out every single thing I did so I began to do things I may not have normally done. Oh, I didn’t become a druggie that hung around the Common Room all doped up with no idea what was going on; no, I was just a bit more conservative than that. I at least hung out in the Forest or in Hogsmeade when I experimented with drugs. Hah, but that phase didn’t last. I decided that I could find other ways to get myself high, ones that involved just a tad bit of a danger. It’s a wonder I wasn’t sorted into Gryffindor.”

“It was just last year that I really started becoming adventurous. A daredevil, if you will. Some have told me that I am going to get myself killed if I continue doing what I am doing now. And you know what? I don’t care. I had this little fight with my mother one summer when I and a neighborhood friend were playing Quidditch together. Yeah, Quidditch, that sport my mother banned me from. She caught us in his back yard tossing the Quaffle around and do you know what she did? She screamed bloody murder. All the neighbors thought that someone must be dying or that Voldemort had come back right then and then. It was crazy. She told me to get done the instant or else she would fly up there and drag me down herself. What happened next was her own stupid fault, really. I got so distracted by her that I didn’t even notice the Quaffle that my friend was throwing towards me. Fortunately for him, it didn’t hit me as I was able to jerk back last minute. But for my mother, that was the last straw. She fucking dragged my down from the air with a spell, ignoring anyone who might possibly be watching. How embarrassing. I was a fourteen at that time and no fourteen year old girl wants to be dragged home by their mother. When I got home, I screamed right back at her. I had known what I was doing. It’s not like I was going to go do a Wronski Freight and ram myself in the group. I wasn’t stupid. But my mother just yelled and yelled, saying that I was being suicidal, acting the way I was. She asked me, “Do you want to die, Mihnuh?” and she just stared at me. I realized she expected an answer. Do you know what I said? I said yes.

“Some people balk at that story, but my friends understand. Veronica Crabbe, Beatrice Lovegood, ___ ____; they understood it. In some ways, we all feel the same. Our lives… we don’t care what happens to them. It was this little group that introduced to me stronger alcohol and darker thoughts. Oh I know they were probably already there, but they helped to bring it out and after that fight with my mother, I let it out. I let it all out. I became a daredevil that any Gryffindor would fear. I even went so far as to try out for the Quidditch Team, but the Headmistress somehow found out and restricted my flying privileges. How dare he? Whatever, there were other things I could do to endanger my life. I don’t talk to my brother as often as I used to. Oh, I love him to death, so much in fact that he’s probably the only person I can say I love. Love. What an odd thing. But whatever, it blows. f*** it. I’ve made it past the guilty stage where I can pointedly ignore the hurt looks he gives me when he sees me banged up. I have yet to break any more bones, but I’ll change that. My weak bones will be the death me, I’m sure. So I will make them break.”

[To be added to when her plot is settled more.]

Father: Jackson Rhode
Mother: Georgia Rhode
Siblings: Logan Rhode [18, Male]

Pet: 2 year old rat named Kerrey
Broom: An early make of the Firebolt X
Wand: 11.5”, Demiguise Hair, Birch
Boggart: The boggart could take on more than one appearance, but the general theme would be failure. If Mihna were to come into contact with a boggart today, it would probably take on her form, lying in a hospital bed. It represents failure because she’s still alive.

Member Title: ! it will all be o v e r

PERSONAL
Name: Molly
Your Age: 16
Other Characters: Alayna Potter, Liona Finnigan
Contact Information:
How Did You Find Us?: I wonder.
Role-Playing Experience: Three years
Miscellaneous/Other: -edit-
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